Nursing Our Relationship (literally)

Today, on my daughter's 11 month birthday, I've recalled many dear memories of the past year. 11 months is so close to a year it's hard not to reflect. I watched videos, looked thoughtfully over photographs of her first weeks and months...it's still so hard to believe how much I love this little person. She's brought an overwhelming amount of joy and meaning into my life.

As I nurse her, which I do like clockwork every hour and a half or so, we gaze into each other's eyes. We always do this when she's nursing. I love, beyond the word love, the intimate relationship we have while I'm feeding her.

What amazes me is how tranquil she is, and how she lets the entire weight of her body fall into mine - she often lays on top of me with her body hanging off sideways. I hold onto her, feel the soft skin of her legs or back, smell her hair and kiss the top of her head as she happily sips away. I can hear her swallowing large gulps of milk as she stares up at me, blinking her enormous eyes.

I wouldn't give these moments up for the world. I cherish every feeding. I watch and listen for her hunger cues. She's become very good at communicating to me.

I've come to understand breastfeeding in a way I couldn't have fathomed before this experience. It's not just the act of feeding, it's an act of bonding; of affection, play and love. My plan is to let Ella nurse until she's ready to stop. I don't mind one bit.